Strix
by That One Staff Sergeant
Summary: An experimental/draft fanfic. A pilot and his squadron, along with their billion-dollar classified aircraft from the 21st century was thrown into the Strike Witches universe when an experiment goes wrong. He ended up dragging one of his pilot friend to Africa with him, being interested in a Karlsland ultra-ace.


_"Tobruk Control, Hunter 0-1, flight of two, approaching on heading 0-2-4, level 15000, requesting clearance to land."_

 _"Hunter 0-1, Tobruk Control, turn right to heading 0-9-5, descend to 8000."_

 _"Right to 0-9-5, descend to 8000, Hunter 0-1."_

 _"Hunter 0-1, Tobruk Control, turn left, heading 0-5-5, descend to 5000, slow down to 2-2-5 knots."_

 _"Left to 0-5-5, descend to 5000, slowing to 2-2-5 knots, Hunter 0-1."_

 _"Hunter 0-1, you're cleared to land, runway one right."_

 _"0-1 roger, cleared on one right."_

 _"0-1, gears are down."_

The twin electrogravitic engines on my F/A-47 Strix fighter hummed as I vertically landed on the runway of the airfield. The landing gear bay opened and the gear was extended. I controlled the movements of my aircraft with precision, assisted by a mini camera displaying what's below the aircraft. Picking a spot, I slowly lowered the aircraft as I made adjustments with the joystick on my right hand and the throttle on my left hand, being careful not to let it hit the ground too hard. After feeling a slight bump, an indication that it had touched the ground smoothly, I taxied the Strix to one of the hangars on the side of the main runway, following the hand signals from one of the ground crews.

Apparently a welcome party has been prepared for us. Karlsland military personnel were amassed near the hangars, staring with awed expressions at the aircraft before them. I don't blame them. It doesn't have any propeller, stops in mid-air, bigger than their aircrafts of the same class, yet not as noisy. This fighter isn't like any other on their military inventory.

Hell, it isn't like any other on this world.

Putting the Strix onto a complete stop as instructed by the ground crew, the crowd began closing in. I pressed the LCD panels on the cockpit to shut the engines down. Looking back at the runway, another Strix hovered and landed, grabbing the attention of the personnel as it taxied to another hangar next to mine.

It was my wingman, Mitch. Along with our transfer here from Pescara, Romagna, we escorted a Junkers Ju 52 transport carrying the rest of our equipment, supplies, and certain refreshments we requested to be brought with us for distributions as we're going to start making friends with people around here. It was also carrying some Karlsland military personnel that have been taking care of one thing or two that needs to be taken care of manually regarding this aircraft.

No longer in contact with our superiors back in Groom Lake; hopelessly trapped in the middle of a World War Two-ish universe waging a conflict with these, _aliens_ I suppose; we decided that we're going to put our money on the Karlsland Air Force. A month ago, we-a squadron of Strix pilots and some other aircrafts gained quite the reputation with our sudden appearance in Pescara for shooting down tens of those Neuroi on our own and giving a hard time for the local military forces and Witches for two weeks. When everything eventually calmed down, we joined the party and assisted them for a while. However, we were changing things fast, and through considerations, we decided that splitting everyone and their planes would be for the best.

In the meantime, Karlsland military started showing interests in our gizmos from the 21st century. We figured out that our fighters, piloting skills and knowledge; far more advance than anything of this age, are something to bring to the table in their fight. In return of sticking out with them, we could probably get better standards of living since it looks like none of us are going back anyway.

Thus, here we are, on our first deployment with the Karlsland military. We are here not only to help improve the morale of the local troops, but to demonstrate our edge in data collecting and battlespace management. The weather, of course, is far more extreme than back in Europe, but it isn't like we're not used to hot climates.

I removed my flight helmet and tugged on one of the switch on the control panel, opening the canopy. It took my eyes a bit to adjust to the brightness of this new environment. The hot, blazing sun and the blast of sand hitting my face were totally saying _welcome to fucking Africa._

A pair of hexagonal doors on the underside of the canopy opens and from it, the integrated boarding ladder automatically extended out. I grabbed my assault pack, stored in a compartment under the pilot seat and climbed out of the canopy and went down the ladder, jumping on its last step. I took the time to stretch, since I was stiff from sitting in the cockpit. The slow speed of the Ju 52 means that we had to adjust our speed accordingly, resulting in a longer duration of flight.

Mitch had also dismounted the Strix. A ground crew immediately walked over to me. I took my harness, survival vest off, handing it over to him for storage. After thanking him, I gave the guy a poke and walked over to Mitch, still stretching his body.

"All good, buddy?" I asked.

"Except the fact that we still didn't get a deployment on a tropical island like I said we should, I'm all good, Curtis."

"What you mean? It's sunny, sandy, and with a little imagination, boom, we're in Waikiki."

"Minus the abundant water. You know, I'm never gonna shut up about getting a Blue Hawaii with a little umbrella on the top until this is over."

"Oh, you'll get your umbrella drink, alright. Just make sure we keep racking on kills and help these people as necessary long as we here. We might've been thrown to this world unfortunately, but we're on this airfield here on our own accord so the least we can do is showing the best of intentions."

"That's total crap, what you just said." He took out a bottle of cola he had apparently brought with him for the duration of the flight. He offered it to me, but I declined, signaling at him to have a go at it first.

"Which part?" I waited for him to answer as he gulped down few sips of the cola. He gave the bottle to me before answering the question. I gulped the soft drink this time as he answered.

" _The best of intentions_ " His hands were signaling a quotation mark." You're totally after the Star of Africa, aren't you?"

I choked on the soda, and spat some of the drink at his general direction, followed by coughs. I handed the bottle back to him.

"See? I was right, am I? We could've gotten deployed in some other place, couldn't we? But no! It has got to be here! Now you dragged me all the way out here-"

"You're way outta line, Mitch!" I laughed.

"Bullshit! I was spot on, wasn't I? Don't give me that, she's totally in your strike zone!"

Though, he isn't a hundred percent false. I have zero objections with being deployed here partly because I'm not so sure about the Strix' capability to operate in cold climates, but partly because I'm also interested in this figure I found out about while reading an article back when we're still with the 501st.

Called the "Star of Africa", Oberleutnant Hanna-Justina Marseille is apparently an ultra-ace with an extremely high number of kill, and popularity. Inquiring more about her got me even more curious, since most military personnel I asked, I could say, revered to her as pretty much a goddess. Being transferred here, and given the chance to possibly sortie alongside her would satisfy my curiosity. If we're going to roll in with the Karlsland Luftwaffe anyway, I might as well catch two birds with one stone.

 _Also you're right, she's totally in my strike zone. I know there's tight regulation regarding them Witches, but I'll cross the bridge when I get to it._

"Well, not that I'm against it, and we can't really do much about it now that we're here."

A VW Kubelwagen Trop stopped to our right. The driver, a Karlsland Heer Obersoldat got out and saluted us, but I dismissed him quick. Mitch replied him with a simple "yo". Despite the strict and formal nature of the Karlsland military, we do things our way whenever we can.

"Welcome to Africa, sir. The Field Marshal's expecting you. I've orders to get you both to the Allied Forces field headquarters for the briefing."

"Yeah, sure." I replied. "What about the rest of our stuff in that airlifter?"

"We'll take care of it."

I hopped on the vehicle, taking the seat beside the driver. Mitch followed suit on the back seat just behind me. As the Kubelwagen rolls on, he offered the driver the cola I choked on earlier. At first the guy was hesitant.

"Come on, you must be thirsty." Mitch continued persuading him. "Empty this shit."

Finally, Obersoldat so-and-so took the bottle from Mitch's hand and drank the cola down, emptying it as he was told to.

"Thank you, sir." He said in gratitude, putting the bottle on the left of his seat.

Soon, we got out of the tarmac, passed the airfield's security post, and are on the road. The dust kicked up behind us as the car sped up along the straight road. Passing some other military vehicles along the way, the trip went by with the driver asking us numerous things, mainly about what we did back in Pescara that made it to the news. Mitch fulfilled his curiosity by retelling the whole thing in a way that piqued even more of his interest, while being careful not to spill too many beans.

Staring at the horizon, I heard the familiar whirling of a Striker Unit. Looking towards the direction of the sound which is to our front, I spot two black dots closing in parallel to the road, flying rather low to the opposite direction.

"Driver, please halt!" I poked the driver's shoulder twice. He quickly pulled over to the left side of the road. I got out the vehicle and was about to borrow Mitch's binocular before realizing that I'm not gonna need one. They were closing in fast. The Striker passed directly over us, and I was able to identify the pilot.

It was definitely Marseille, along with her wingman. Getting buzzed by aerial vehicles wasn't something alien to me, but seeing her in person, really is something else.

I lifted my fist in the air, and let out a loud "woo-hoo". Mitch and the driver waved at them. The two Strikers went into a climb with their pilots facing our direction now, seemingly acknowledging our greetings, before facing forward again and zooming out even further.

"That's a 109, F4/Trop! That's definitely her!"

"You're happy now, Skip?" Mitch asked. I just chuckled. I continued staring at them until they were out of sight. The driver wasn't hiding his excitement at all.

"Okay, let's get back on the road." I said, getting back on the car.

The next fifteen minutes of the ride was mostly filled with the Karlsland Obersoldat getting all hyped about seeing the Oberleutnant up close, in that _I'm-certainly-going-to-brag-to-all-my-friends-about-this_ tone. Mitch was just listening to him, but I stared off at the distance.

Our vehicle entered a joint military staging base, filled mostly with armored vehicles. The Karlsland Obersoldat parked the vehicle and instructed us to follow him. Along the way, we were getting noticed from pretty much everyone we passed by.

Our Nomex flight suit might've allowed them to know who we were at the first look; or maybe it's our unit patches, different from any other unit here. The Strix development program's insignia was a Eurasian owl with stars in the background. The slogan on the under half of the circle patch was written in Latin; _"Per Aspera Ad Astra"._

The Obersoldat told us to wait outside for a bit and entered one of the large tents lined up within the staging base. When he returned he instructed us to get inside, in which me and Mitch quickly does so, looking forward to get in the shade. A projector and a screen were already set up, along with a long table and seats.

There were several high-ranking officers already inside. I was able to identify those from Karlsland, Britannia and the USL, although I've yet to seen Field Marshal Rommel of the Karlsland Armed Forces himself. Mitch and I sat beside each other on the furthest back of the long table. We both put our assault pack down and started taking out the materials we need for the upcoming presentation. Mitch helped the Karlsland Obersoldat setting up the images we wanted on screen.

Not long after, the Field Marshal comes in. Every other Karlsland military personnel in the tent stood at attention, to which me and Mitch quickly followed suit. Mitch went back to his seat after the order to be at ease was given.

"First of all, you all must have been seeing the headlines in major newspaper about an event taking place in Romagna in the past month. A squadron of aircraft with advanced technology, and of unknown origin, held out against the Neuroi by themselves for two weeks, witnessed by the 501st Joint Fighter Wing. They held out on an uninhabited island against the local military forces, and the Joint Fighter Wing itself before the situation between the two sides is finally resolved. The technology they brought with them was deemed highly strategical to our war efforts, and as consented, the original squadron was split up in their best intentions to assist us."

 _"Best, intentions."_ Mitch whispered to me, poking fun at my hidden agenda to close in on the Star of Africa. Well, he's not wrong.

"Four of them agreed to assist the Karlsland Luftwaffe. One aircraft has headed to St. Trond to be inspected, the other one to Sedan. The remaining two arrived here from Pescara a little over an hour ago. The pilots are here today to give us some introduction, for they are going to be deployed here with the Karlsland Afrika Korps."

He gave us permission to start our presentation. Me and Mitch stood up and walked up front, as the Field Marshal takes his turn to listen. I cleared my throat before proceeding. Mitch chose to manually operate the projector, sliding the image of the F/A-47 Strix inside.

"Okay, let's begin." I said under my breath.

"Thank you, Field Marshal. I'm Norman Curtis, of the United States Air Force, from where I came from. Over there is my wingman, David Mitchell. Well, we aren't technically organic members of the Air Force; we're actually test pilots working for them under a contract with a private company.

We're here today, to give you some background information about us; where we came from, how did we ended up here, what do we brought with us, why we're here now, and what we can do to help you get one step ahead against the Neuroi you're fighting, based on our experience. We're also here to set several things straight; despite what or what you haven't read or heard about us."

I went over to the image of the Strix already showing up on the projector screen.

"I'll start with this thing, which I'm sure had taken the interest of major military forces for the past month. This is our fighter aircraft, the F/A-47 Strix. It'd classify as a fighter-bomber according to the classifications here, but back on our world it's known as a multirole fighter.

It was a secret project when we developed it back on our world, which, we figured out, aren't very much different from here in terms of geopolitics, although our timeline had already gone about 70 years past this world's. We came from a nation called the United States of America, which to be simple, is our version of the United States of Liberion. Only a few people knows about the development of the Strix, that was done in a secret military base often called _Area 51_. Our Strix was what we dubbed, a sixth-generation jet fighter, basically the most advanced and capable type of aircraft, utilizing numerous technologies not owned by any other countries, mostly experimental. The best the 21st century can offer.

One of the technologies the researchers tried adding on the Strix was a time-space bending device intended for zero-time transportation; _teleportation_ if you may. It was developed separately, but they were going to kill the program, and the Strix, so the two was eventually merged. The flight to test the teleportation tech that day was undertaken by our squadron consisting of eight Strix guarding five other secret tactical attack aircraft and two medium transports. Our destination was a US secret military facility located in another country named Italia.

Well, the device worked perfectly; apparently even more than intended. We ended up here, an alternate reality. Confused, with no contacts with any friendlies, we came across a fleet under attack by those Neuroi. Having zero knowledge on the situation at hand, and already assuming that the Neuroi is a hostile machine of some kind, at first we decided to let the fleet be and use them as a distraction as we get past the ongoing battle.

Now gentlemen, we have no intentions of letting the fleet gets sunk at that time, but our orders have always been crystal clear; we don't let anyone find out about our existence. The Strix, and the technology it uses are developed and tested in a highly secretive manner, and even in a situation like back then, we cannot compromise it. Though, we were eventually spotted, and are forced to engage the Neuroi.

The next question is, how did we deal with it? There are several cards the Strix have to play, and yes, none of this uses any kind of magic. This is all pure, practical science. First, there are two internally-mounted, directed-energy particle-beam cannon, the TAL-01, short for Tactical Aerial Laser. Then, there's two internal weapons bay, capable of carrying bombs and missiles. That day, my payload was four long-range _AMRAAM_ and the short range _ASRAAM_ missiles. The radar onboard our Strix focuses on the strongest electromagnetic source so, when faced with a Neuroi, we all immediately lock on to the core. Then, at the back of the tail we have the MADS, or the Microwave Airspace Denial System. When each aircraft activates their MADS, it'll form an overlapping area around them that burns out anything caught inside, like a net.

In the end, the key to our survival was our onboard energy deflector shield, and our active camouflage system. The whole skin of the aircraft can blend to the background environment, and combined with the fact that there are no moving parts outside our aircraft, makes it close to invisible when activated. We took out the Neuroi, and had apparently scrubbed the mission that was to be completed by the 501st. When we encountered them, we were very much alien to the idea that the reinforcement sent for the fleet was girls with animal ears mounting leg aircrafts, thus we decided to egress the area until we know what the hell just happened.

One of them, who we'd later learn to be Pilot Officer Miyafuji started following Mitch's fighter. This other guy started freaking out, since it's our first time seeing a girl flying around with leg aircrafts and all. He tried to cover for Mitch. He'd intended to wave her off using non-lethal settings on the TAL-01, but then he went overboard with that thing, and the next second, everyone's started shooting at everyone, and it went downhill quick. We held off for a while, but fearing for their backup, we continued our egress under our active camouflage. We found an uninhabited island and landed there.

How did we support ourselves there for the next two weeks? The island had fresh water and food sources, and decent amount of vegetation that we used to hide the aircraft. Their radars didn't pick it up because the shape of our aircrafts is intended to minimize the signature on radar. Having established a base of operations, we started sending out one or two guys to the nearest town, and they start asking around, collecting information. In four days, we mostly had an idea about what was going on. We mapped the airspace around us, the local military presence, and the routes they take on daily patrols. We also tapped into their communications so we also know when they scramble.

Those days in the island weren't all calm days. There were debates going on around everyone about whether we should continue holding up, or just give ourselves up. In the meantime, we were attempting to repair the teleportation device with no success. We were also constantly scrambling against Neuroi attacks. Most of the time, the 501st would deal with them, but there are several situations where we'd have to defend ourselves. We learned a great deal about them, and were racking up kills. However, we were still keeping our identity a secret and in that process we had to engage the search forces looking for us.

We had no problems with water, but apparently we were drying up all the edibles on the island. Our cohesion was deteriorating fast. The recon teams we often sent to the Romagnan mainland had apparently chosen to expose ourselves and open a negotiation with the local forces. They made contact with the 501st, with much disagreement from those who wanted to continue holding out.

One night, at our second week, half of everyone who wasn't about to surrender took off all at once and flew towards the 501st base with the intent of burying our recon team, whom had spilled the beans. The other half tried to forcefully detain the rest of us and take the teleportation device, still under repairs, for themselves. However, during the incident, we found out that the teleportation device was beyond repair. The word got out, and we all decided to just turn ourselves in; having no way to get back to our world. The ones who took off that night immediately broke off.

When the negotiation was completed, we all moved to the 501st base, and explained ourselves. There were disbelief at first about our origin, but our technology answered all their doubts, and, yeah, we made it to the news. As compensation to causing damages for the local military, we stick around and helped the 501st with several things. In that time, everyone's got interested in us. We got nearly as good as Witches in taking out Neurois using conventional technologies. Conventional for us, to say the least, because unfortunately, most of the things we've brought can't be replicated with your current technology and understanding.

Up until now, we've been helping them out on our own accord, but we're concerned that if every single one of our tech falls into one country's hand, it'd end up bad. So, a month after we've first arrived, the decision was made that we'd all split. Logically, we should've all went to the Liberions, as the America here, but then again there's no guarantee if we're doing the right thing with that. We've opted not to disturb the balance here, so, that brings us to where we are right now.

I've already explained some technical things about the Strix, but what good would it bring in a fight against a Neuroi? First, using its high sensitivity onboard radar and sensors system, it could detect any incoming from the distance of nearly 1,900 kilometers. Combined with the long range of the missile, it allows us to engage any hostile before they're able to visually identify us, and evade their fire. Then, using the information it collected from its combat environment, the Strix is able to provide complete situational awareness, and share its data to others, although until now this function only works between our aircrafts.

The Strix is also capable of pinpointing a Neuroi's core accurately through conventional means, which is its radar. The low-observability technologies of the aircraft itself mean that it's also an excellent surveillance platform. We can collect data on a certain area and map it based on numerous parameters digitally. Lastly, the Strix is currently the fastest manmade vehicle on this planet, with a top speed of over 2,000 kilometers an hour, which is twice the speed of sound. We can choose to fight or to run at our discretion. Get in, get even, and get out before the enemy knows what just hit them.

I think that provides an idea regarding us for everyone today, and, that's pretty much it. I'll be looking forward to you gentlemen, who wish to see the Strix in person and in action."

I ended my presentation. The Field Marshal took over again.

"I haven't been able to see the Strix in person, but I am planning to do so the moment I have the opportunity. The two aircraft, under the Karlsland Luftwaffe will be stationed on an airfield near Tobruk. They will be operating alongside the 31st Joint Fighter Squadron."

 _Did I hear that right?_

I didn't need to turn my head at him to know what my wingman is up to. Mitch was staring down on me with the smuggest of his long list of facial expression.

"Their role from here onward will mainly consist of reconnaissance and mapping of battle areas, with scrambling against the Neuroi being the second priority. The data they collected would be shared to all Allied forces. To begin, there will be a scheduled orientation flight for the Strix tommorow. That concludes everything for now. "

After the meeting was dismissed, Mitch immediately poked me.

"We're rolling with Marseille, brah." He said, raising his eyebrows up and down. I totally got what I came here for.

"Well, we've our orders, we start tomorrow. Don't mess me up."

 _"Yes, sir!"_


End file.
